Page 62 of Friendzone Hockey
I’m lost in a world of tears and pain. This was why I stopped journaling. It was just a bunch of wishes about us that would never come true. An unhealthy obsession. Stacey didn’t like it when I said I wasn’t doing it anymore, but he didn’t push. I suspect he knew it had something to do with him. This was a good reminder of why we aren’t. The pain was excruciating. Worse than taking a puck to the face.
The door clicks open. Shit. I sit up fast, but there’s no hiding the fact that I’m in Stacey’s makeshift bed, in his fucking jersey. And, yes, I steal his clothes all the time, but after what happened it’s a pretty big signal. Stacey’s gaze lands on me. He freezes.
Yes, I’m still in love with you, fool.
Because my heart never listened to the nonsense I tried to tell it.
“Back from the aquarium so soon?” I snap.
“Yeah. Alex was afraid of the jellyfish, and Trent didn’t like how dark it was in there. We watched the sea otters and rescued dolphins for a bit and came home. What are you doing in here?”
“Fuck. Sorry, I’m … I’ll leave.”
His eyes darken. His breathing changes. He stalks toward me and there’s no denying it—he’s predator and I’m the prey. My ribcage rises and falls in a syncopated rhythm while my heart beats a heavy staccato. Is this how a rabbit feels before the eagle descends?
I can’t move. Can only await his approach. His hand whips out, grabbing a fistful of jersey, trapping me where I am.
“Take it off.Now.” He lets go, and I sink into the cot.
What the fuck? He’s never been opposed to me taking anything of his. Ever. Fuck that.
“No.”
“Either take that off or take this off.” He finds my left hand and my finger with Syd’s ring on it.
“That’s not fair, Stacey. That’s like saying I have to choose between you two.”
“Maybe you do.”
I’ve never seen him so hard. So cold.
“Me? No way. You don’t get to do this now. I threw myself at you like a fucking moron and got my heart broken.”
“I didn’t mean to?—”
“Yeah, I know you had good intentions. I get that. But before you demand I make impossible choices…” I grip my chest. Breathing’s a fucking struggle. The room is too small and too big at the same time. Stacey takes a step toward me, but I hold my hand out. “No, I’m fine.”
I take a few slow breaths. My fingers find the journal I’ve been reading all afternoon.
“Here, read this.” I throw it at him. He flinches, but catches the book because he’s a top-level athlete who never misses a throw or a puck pass. “Found these, too. Thought you might want them.”
I stand, shoving his mother’s journals into his arms. It’s suddenly enough that he fumbles, but his big arms can hold them all. I leave him like that, scrambling, grappling as I push past.
Taking the damn jersey with me.
Chapter
Twelve
THEN
Off-Season Three
Stacey
Pacing outside Dash’s door does shit to calm me down. Do I even want to be calmed down? Yeah, I do. Ido.Every bone in my body wants him, especially one in particular, but I won’t reduce us down to sex. I won’t let the thoughtless animal within me make my decisions.
But he threw himself at me.
